Tag Archives: love

Penny-Less

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A few words about losing my best friend.

Penny and the Pumpkins
This is my favorite picture of Penny, mostly because it also represents our new life together after my crazy divorce. I shot it at my just-purchased property in Malaga where we were living in my old RV, the Mobile Mansion, before building our home. She was about a 1-1/2 years old here.

It was a January morning like any other when my friend Janet and I went for our morning “power walk.” We typically walked at least 2-1/2 miles, starting at our campsites/booths at Tyson Wells in Quartzsite, AZ, walking east on Kuehn Street, and cutting into the open desert on one of the many dirt tracks. As usual, Penny the Tiny Dog was with us. She was leashed for the first part, then let loose to run and explore when we got into the desert for the bulk of the walk. Later, before we got back onto the road, I’d leash her up again.

That morning, things didn’t go the same as they usually did. We were just coming out of the desert to our leash-up place when a man started yelling. The next thing I knew, a large dog was chasing Penny. Then she was crying and Janet was yelling and we were all running toward the place where the big dog had Penny in his mouth. The dog’s owner got control of them, but Penny was writhing on the ground, still crying, obviously in pain. She actually bit both Janet and I as we tried to calm her. I scooped her up, yelled at the man with the dog, and headed off to find a vet.

Penny on the Kayak
I went kayaking with Penny on December 17 in the Colorado River backwaters near where we were camped. She didn’t particularly like the kayak but she wanted to be anywhere I was.

I don’t want to go into details here. Honestly, I’m tired of thinking about it, tired of reliving those moments when I raced to a vet in Blythe, lifted her out of the car, and saw how much blood was on the blanket there and my tee-shirt. The vet whisked her away for x-rays and soon reported that nothing was broken but she wanted to keep Penny overnight for observation. “She’s in good hands,” I was told.

Janet and I walked without her the next morning. We walked the same route; the man with the big dog was nowhere to be found. We spoke to some folks near our exit to the desert and asked them to tell that man, if they saw him, that his dog had put mine into the hospital.

Oddly, I didn’t have my phone with me on that walk. But when I picked it up back at my camper, I saw that I had three calls from the vet. A message told me to call back. I was with Janet when I got the news: Penny had died during the night.

Now some people have dogs who are pets. And some people have dogs who are like their kids. And then some people have dogs who are their constant companions, best friends, life savers. I’m in that last group. Penny was all of those things to me.

And yes, as I type this two full months after losing her, I’m crying.

So Penny is gone. Forever.

Last Photo of Penny
This is my last photo of Penny and it isn’t even a good one. It was shot in Janet’s booth where we’d gather for dinner some evenings. January 6, 2020.

Penny was an amazing companion. In the seven and a half years we were together, we had learned each other’s habits and needs and worked together as a team. She went with me nearly everywhere whether we traveled by car, motorcycle, helicopter, bicycle, or airliner. She wasn’t needy like some dogs, but knew how to curl up on my lap for affection when we watched TV. She helped me through some of the toughest times of my life just by being there. I can’t say that about anyone else.

I needed to blog this. I needed people who knew about her and our relationship to know that she was gone. I needed to head off any questions about why I don’t talk about her anymore. Now you know. Now everyone knows.

The empty spot she left in my life will be impossible to fill, but I’m trying. Last month, I adopted a pair of puppies. I’ll be blogging about them soon.

But one thing I already know: neither of them can ever replace my best friend, Penny.

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Comments are closed. I don’t want condolences. Please respect my wishes and don’t comment elsewhere or email me about this. The best thing in the world that you can do is either choose adoption for your next pet or donate to organizations that rescue and find homes for dogs and cats.

Thriving in Midlife

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Tired of my tips? Take some from the folks at NPR.

[Note: How weird is this? I was going through a list of unfinished and unpublished blog posts on my desktop computer in November 2017 and found this post from September 2016. It sure looks finished to me — why didn’t I publish it? I’m not sure, but I think it has something to teach so here it is, slotted into the blog chronology with its original date.]

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8 Tips from author Barbara Bradley Hagerty

Want an idea of what the article says? Here’s the gist; I refer to these points throughout this blog post. I recommend reading it and thinking about how it might apply in your life.

  1. Aim for long-term meaning.
  2. Choose what matters most.
  3. Lean into fear, not boredom.
  4. Always be a rookie at something.
  5. Add punctuation to your life.
  6. A few setbacks are what the doctor ordered.
  7. Don’t left boredom and neglect threaten a marriage.
  8. Happiness is love.

This is a quick blog post to showcase an article posted by NPR — that’s National Public Radio — on its website.

I’m a big NPR listener (and supporter) and usually have the radio tuned in at home when I’m working around the house or in my shop/garage. Conservative Americans will tell you that NPR is a left wing propaganda machine, but I think they do a good job of staying in the center — too good, at times. But beyond politics — which are difficult to get away from these days — NPR offers a lot of programming on general topics of interest. I especially recommend All Things Considered, which airs in the afternoons here.

The article I want to recommend came out way back in March 2016. I missed it then but, for some reason, NPR tweeted a link to it the other day and I caught it. Titled “8 Ways You Can Survive — And Thrive In — Midlife,” It’s a brief piece with numbered tips. I can’t tell you how absolutely on target this article is.

But I’ll try.

This List and My Life

As regular readers know, I went through an extremely difficult time in my life back in 2012 and 2013. The short version is that the man I’d spent 29 years of my life with and had made the mistake of marrying back in 2006 lost his mind, left me for a woman old enough to be my mother, and attempted to use the divorce court to separate me from everything I’d worked hard for my whole life. He dragged us through an ugly and expensive divorce and then — believe it or not — an appeal. Along the way, he harassed me regularly with legal action and unreasonable demands and made a lot of stupid decisions that made him look like a selfish idiot. In the end, I won (twice) and got to keep what was mine. That’s the short version.

Out My Window
How can I not be happy when this is outside my window every day?

They say that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and I can vouch for that. I came away from a really crazy and sometimes painful experience feeling better than ever about myself. I rebooted my life in a new place with lots of new friends. And because I was now fully in charge of my destiny, I made decisions that enabled me to build a home that was perfect for me in a place I loved and to grow my flying business bigger than I ever thought possible. I now have the lifestyle I’d once envisioned for myself and my wasband — I tend to business responsibilities five months a year and play/travel the rest of the year. I started my seven month “vacation” on August 1 this year and don’t need to get back to work until late February.

A few more words about my crazy divorce…

Although I listened to divorce-related advice from friends and family members, I also consulted with my lawyers and made decisions that made good legal sense. And despite the abuse my wasband and his old whore threw my way, I didn’t lower myself to their level and give them a few doses of the same. I did blog a lot about what was going on, but even then I minimized what I shared.

After a while, their harassment became a real source of amusement for me, my family, and my friends — especially when they did idiotic things like trying to get an injunction against harassment on me (which I fought in court alone and won; I still wonder how many thousands of dollars they wasted on a lawyer for that) or sent a private investigator to photograph my neighbor’s home under construction, claiming it was mine and I’d lied about it in court (more money comically wasted).

After all, it wasn’t my goal to make them suffer; once I realized my wasband was a lost cause I only cared about keeping what was rightfully mine and getting on with my life. Even today, more than four years after it all started, I don’t hate them. Instead, I pity them — especially my wasband, who could have shared the amazing life I’ve made for myself. And how can you not pity an old woman who uses 30-year-old lingerie photos to seduce men she meets online? Another reason to pity my wasband, perhaps?

I’ve written numerous times in this blog about my thoughts and feelings related to my success, most recently here. I’m proud of myself and what I’ve achieved and I want readers who visit this blog to see how they can succeed, too. I believe that each person is in charge of his or her own destiny; our decisions and efforts will mold our lives and futures. One stupid decision can really screw things up; I’m sure you know at least one person who will regretfully agree. My mistake was getting married and it cost me dearly. I was able to pull myself back up from what seemed at the time like an abyss because I was financially secure, had a decent brain in my head, and was able to make decisions and take actions that moved me in a positive direction.

That’s where some of this NPR article’s advice comes into play. I wasn’t looking just at the short-term goal of ending my marriage quickly with minimal financial loses. I was also looking at the big picture: my next home, my new friends, the future of my business. Long-term meaning? I’d been thinking about that since 2008 when my friend Erik got sick. That’s when I started planning for the future — a future that originally included my wasband, fueled with his input and promises. Fortunately, I was able to salvage and rebuild those plans when he left my life and the crazy started in 2012.

I also realized that what matters most is my time. Other people will say family, but I have no kids and my family, which is small, lives on the other side of the country. My friends are important — some more than others — but I’ve learned that friends come and go and even the ones you thought were good friends sometimes change and fall from your life. But time — well, that’s a valuable commodity. Being able to spend as much of my time doing the things I wanted to do became a real driving force in how I shaped my work and business. A perfect example: starting in 1998, I wrote Quicken: The Official Guide for Osborne/McGraw-Hill. It was a bestseller and, along with another bestseller I wrote around that time, helped me put a lot of money away for retirement and invest in my future career as a helicopter owner/operator/pilot. The book was revised annually and became, over the years, a bit of a frustrating grind. After the 11th edition, I threw in the towel and asked them to find another author, which they did. The simple truth is that I wanted my summers back. And on a micro level, ask my wasband what I often wanted for my birthday when I spent summers at home; if he’s honest (which is unlikely), he’ll admit that I wanted the day for myself, to do whatever I wanted to do. (He never did understand that.)

If there’s anything on the NPR article’s list that really pops out for me, it’s the third and fourth points, which talk about getting out of your comfort zone and exploring new things. I think I began doing this when I first struck out as a freelancer in 1990, leaving a good-paying job in corporate America for an uncertain career as a writer. Talk about leaving your comfort zone! It would have been easy to stick with that job and continue my climb up the corporate ladder, but I wasn’t happy. Making the change was risky and tough, but I did it better than I expected. As for learning new things, well, I’m often accused of being an overachiever (as if that’s a bad thing) and a lot of people notice my hobbies, like beekeeping and photography. I’ve been fiddling these days with up cycling glass, making wine and cider (and possibly more potent potables), mushroom hunting, astrophotography, and dying fabric using natural materials like lichen and flower petals. I’m a rookie at all of these things and I love learning from them from the ground up! Maybe that’s part of the punctuation referred to in the sixth point, too? The courses I take to learn about mushrooms and photography and wine? The dance lessons I took last year? Soloing in a gyro two winters ago even though I know I’ll never own one?

Setbacks are what make life interesting. Obviously, my divorce was a huge setback, especially with the amount of time and money it took to finally conclude. But as I said earlier, what doesn’t kill you does make you stronger. Working through setbacks help us learn to work with others and solve problems. They also help us appreciate the days when we don’t have troubles clouding our world.

And it’s pretty clear that I failed completely at the seventh point. My marriage went downhill almost from the moment we exchanged vows. After 23 years together, did he really expect things to change? For me to settle down and be the homebody wife and mommy he apparently wanted and needed? I didn’t want a change; hell, I didn’t even want to get married. (Long story there.) In any case, there was plenty of boredom and neglect on both sides. I felt as if I was perpetually in a holding pattern, waiting for him to keep promises he’d made to me to move forward in our future together. He likely felt that I was neglecting him by going off to my summer job in Washington every year. I’ll never know, though, since he lacked the courage to talk to me about it, even after the marriage counsellor he wanted us to see recommended it. Honest conversation probably could have saved what was once an amazing relationship, but some people respect the value of truth and others don’t. Enough said.

Happiness is love. Hmm. Not sure what that’s supposed to mean. I do know that I’m happier now than I have been in a very long time. There’s no new love in my life and frankly, after all I’ve been through, I don’t think I want one. Some people are meant to be part of a pair and others aren’t. Unless I find someone with the same outlook in life that I have — a real love of the outdoors, a desire to try and learn new things, an understanding of the value of time, and a willingness to drop everything for a spur-of-the-moment adventure — I’ll stay single and be very happy that way. I’ve learned that I’d much rather be single than in a relationship with the wrong partner. I’ll take the happiness; you can keep the love.

If there’s one thing on this topic I’ve learned in my life, it’s this: Happiness might be love, but love isn’t necessarily happiness.

Now Look at Your Life

But I didn’t share this article to talk about my life. I shared it to help you — the people who read this blog, many of whom have contacted me privately to tell me how I’ve inspired them. (A special thanks to Meghan, who emailed me just past weekend to tell me I was “rad.” You’re rad, too; work hard and smart and you’ll be even radder.) It’s within your power to survive and thrive not only your midlife years, but the years leading up to them and those beyond.

Read the article. It’s short. Or better yet, read the book it’s extracted from, Life Reimagined: The Science, Art, and Opportunity of Midlife. Think about how its advice might apply to your life. Make the changes you might need to move forward and be happy.

It’s not always easy, but it is so worth it.

And if you get a chance, use the comments to share how the tips listed above might apply in your life to make you happier. I’m sure we could all learn from your experience, too!

Throwback Thursday, Birthday Edition

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An old photo and some memories to go with it.

I don’t have many photos of myself, mostly because I don’t see any need to. I know what I look like: I see that face in the mirror every morning. But I do have a few older photos to look back on and this is one of them.

Old Photo
These two photos of me stood on the ledge beside my wasband’s desk in our Arizona home. I took the helicopter frame when I packed, but left the rest.

I vaguely remember the day the larger photo was shot. It was at my car in a parking lot at the beach. It was just after sunset. My future wasband was the photographer.

Nissan Pulsar
Here I am with my old car and my dog Spot in front of the first house I owned with my future wasband. I figure this was shot in 1985.

My car in those days was a 1983 Nissan Pulsar. It was metallic blue and a definite upgrade from the 1970 VW Beetle it replaced. I loved that car until I realized how much it lacked in terms of performance and agility. I replaced it in 1986 with a 1987 Toyota MR-2 that I owned until just a few years ago.

The beach was likely Jones Beach on the west end of Long Island in New York. My future wasband and I met there back on July 10, 1983, an event I documented in a blog post I wrote after my marriage to him fell apart 29 years later. The parking lot was called West End 2.

The photo was shot at sunset. We went to Jones Beach West End 2 occasionally to watch the sun set — that’s how we’d met. Back in those days, I lived in Hempstead on Long Island and he lived in Flushing in Queens. Although I doubt this photo was shot the day we met, it was probably shot sometime that same summer.

I like this photo a lot. It’s quite a nice composition; my wasband could be a good photographer when he tried. This is one of the instances when he managed to nail composition and light; he usually focuses (no pun intended) on subject matter and neglects one or both of the other vital components of fine art photography. (I can’t tell you how tough it was to get him to go on photo outings during golden hour light.) But in this case, he took a great portrait of a much younger version of me.

Younger, yes. I was probably 22 in this photo. My birthday had been just 10 days before we met and this had to be within three months of that. It’s one of my favorite photos of myself.

I’ve been thinking lately about how much I’d like to create a modern version of this photo. My face with the same expression — if I can pull it off after so many years of life experiences that resulted in the cynicism I work hard to overcome nearly daily. The position of my head in the lower corner of the driver’s side window of my current little car, a 2003 Honda S2000. The reflection of the horizon, red from the light of a recently set sun.

Or maybe it would have to be in my truck, since my car doesn’t have a back window for the reflection.

I just need a friend with a good eye and a camera to meet with me and make it happen. Another project for another day.

I don’t actually have this photo in my possession. I found it face down near my wasband’s desk when I returned home from my summer job in September 2012. The locks had been changed on the house I’d shared with him for 15 years, but an $8 lock — yes, I found the receipt dated just the week before on the kitchen table — isn’t going to keep me out of my home. (Neither was his lie-studded attempt to use the court to keep me out. No, I didn’t “abandon” him. I went to my summer job, as I had the previous four summers in a row.)

I found it interesting that he’d kept the photo at all. Or the one of the two of us all dressed up, shot only a few years later at a friend’s wedding, which I mailed to his mother as a birthday gift. I was surprised that the desperate old whore he’d hooked up with, who was obviously calling the shots for his life and divorce battle, hadn’t destroyed them when she was in my home, sizing up my possessions for her own future use. (That didn’t work out the way they intended, either.)

I righted the two photos and snapped the picture you see above. Later, I packed the little helicopter frame — I honestly can’t remember if I took the Papillon picture with it; it’s still packed somewhere. But I know I left the car window portrait behind. I think I was hoping that it would jog his memory of the better days together so long ago, before greed and jealousy and anger and frustration had split us apart. Maybe it would snap him out of his delusional state of mind and make him think twice about what he was throwing away. And how much it was costing him to make an enemy of the only woman who truly cared about him.

Of course, none of that happened. I stayed in the house until May 2013, packing my things while I waited in vain for him to see reason and settle out of court. In the end, it went in front of a judge and he wound up paying me and his lawyers at least four times what he would have if he’d agreed to my generous settlement offer. And he could have kept the house! Stupidity? Greed? Bad advice? I think they were all part of his problem. Amazing how a person can change.

But by then I was started on my new life without him, moving forward for the first time in years without a sad sack old man holding me back. Building the home I wanted — without the endless delays and compromises and excuses I’d been dealing with for years — in a beautiful place among good friends. A place where I could build my business and have an active life with the variety and challenges I thrive on.

When I look back on this picture, I remember the good old days when we were young and idealistic and deeply in love. And then I remind myself that the man who took the photo is long gone — and I’m so much better off without the man he became.

God is love? Why am I not seeing that?

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And when will we ever have religious tolerance?

The other day, I read an article shared on Facebook by my friend Derek, an active member of the Skeptic community who is mostly known for his fight against the anti-vaccine movement. Although Derek has been sharing tons of articles about vaccines and the harm currently being done by the anti-vax movement these days — after all, measles is on the rise because of parents opting out of the MMR vaccine for their kids — this particular article was about the role of religion in child rearing. Titled “Godless Parents are Doing a Better Job,” it summarized information in an Los Angeles Times Op-Ed piece titled “How Secular Family Values Stack Up.” That, in turn, summarized the findings of several polls and studies.

Because so many people seem to think that atheists and non-believers in general — the so-called “nones” — are amoral and likely evil, it was good to see an article that confirmed my thoughts on the subject: that belief in a God has no bearing on a person’s morals. I shared the article on my Facebook timeline with the following description:

Takeaway quote: “Parents who raise their kids without religion are doing just fine, studies say, possibly even better. Overall, not believing in God seems to make people and their offspring more tolerant. Less racist. Less sexist. Enviro-friendly. And their kids care less about what’s cool, which—say it with me—only makes them cooler.” That last bit also makes them more practical and more likely to live within their means — something that has made a huge difference in my life and my ability to be and stay happy.

My post got a modest two “likes” and, more surprisingly, two “shares.” One of the shares was by my friend Barbara, who used the description:

An interesting article, sure to stir up lots of discussion. And I would love to know more about each individual study. For me, the take home is that a strong moral foundation, no matter what you call it, is the key to successful parenting.

Clearly, Barbara drew a similar conclusion to what I did, although she did hint at skepticism by saying she wanted to know more about the studies.

Sadly, Barbara’s Facebook friends weren’t quite as open-minded about the piece. Most of them latched on to the unfortunate lede of the article:

Hate to break it to you, Bible thumpers: Parents who raise their kids without religion are doing just fine, studies say, possibly even better.

Ouch. Apparently, believers don’t like the phrase “Bible thumpers.” Although the author was trying to be cute, all she (not he, as those who claimed to read the piece referred to her — I guess there are some men named Tracy, although their profile pics don’t usually show a woman holding a small child) managed to do was alienate anyone who dislikes that trite descriptor. I suspect that most stopped reading there, because their comments were more about the author’s bias than what came after that first sentence.

I see a lot of that. People who simply switch off their brains when they get to a word or phrase they don’t like. It makes it tough for writers to get what they want to say out if they have to worry about a choice of words offending a particular part of their audience.

(I suspect that the title of this post will have the same affect. How many people will comment without bothering to read it? Read the comments and figure it out for yourself.)

I attempted to comment about this from the point of view of a non-believer:

I agree totally with Barbara when she says that a strong moral foundation is necessary. But I do not believe that God or any religion is necessary for that moral foundation.

This particular website tends to present articles with a very definite slant — likely to fire up emotions and get hits — but if the conclusions presented here are backed up by real studies, the presentation tone is beside the point.

I also do not see how she is singling out Christians in any way. And doesn’t really make a difference that there are more people who believe in God than people who don’t? The “nones” are a growing segment of our society. When faced with the choice of a country run by politicians who want to insert religion instead of science in our schools, I’ll vote for a “none” any day.

I then took it a step farther:

As you’ve probably guessed from my comments, I am a non-believer. But I was raised as a Catholic including regular attendance at Sunday school until after Confirmation. Still, I don’t think I ever really believed that there was a higher power in control of the show down here on earth.

About those studies…

I’ve had time to do some searching. Here’s some reading material for those of you who think atheists are amoral. Educate yourself:

“Religion Doesn’t Make People More Moral, Study Finds,” livescience, September 2014.

“Atheists More Motivated by Compassion than the Faithful,” livescience, May 2014.

“Study Reveals Atheists Are MORE Compassionate And Generous Than Highly Religious People,” Addicting Info, May 2012

“Highly religious people are less motivated by compassion than are non-believers,” UC Berkeley Newscenter, April 2012.

“Atheists ‘just as ethical as churchgoers’,” The Telegraph, February 2010

Believers seem to think that without belief in a God to punish us for our “sins,” people will have no moral foundation for life. Studies have shown that this is not true. And no, unfortunately I cannot provide links to such studies at this moment. As a nonbeliever, I think it’s sad that people need to live in fear of punishment by God to simply do the right thing. I don’t need a list of Commandments to tell me what’s right or what’s wrong. It was not me, the atheist, who committed adultery – it was my believer husband who did so. It was not me, the atheist, who stole and misused funds given to me by people who trusted me – it was more than a few televangelists preaching the word of their God.

It’s the hypocrisy of believers — not all of them, I hope — that makes me angry. Yet I’m still very tolerant. As far as I’m concerned, people can believe whatever they want, as long as their beliefs do not harm others. Sadly, very few believers are tolerant of people like me who do not share their beliefs. Tell me: who’s on a higher moral ground?

I was ignored. The comments continued to revolve around the bias of the author, continuously referring to her as “he.” They were clearly made by people who had not bothered to read the entire piece or the piece it was based on. Instead, they took offense at “Bible thumper” and focused their angry comments on that.

Finally, I commented:

As usual, everyone misses the point.

And that’s when the attack turned on me. Someone said:

The point you’ve missed, Maria L, is that if you believe in God, it’s about love, not punishment.

It’s about love?

God is Love?

They Say God is LoveI remember “God is love” from Sunday school. In fact, it’s the only thing that sticks with me all these years later. I’d like to think that they tried to teach us more than that simple phrase, but, in all honesty, that’s all I remember. It’s almost as if it was pounded into our heads.

Heck, I don’t even remember any Bible stories being taught.

But even back then, “God is love” was meaningless to me. And as I sit here, I still can’t imagine what this is supposed to mean.

And if a belief in God is “about love,” then why do religious folks bring moral standards into the argument all the time? Why do they say atheists are amoral? Love and moral values are two different things.

Aren’t they?

Seems to me that the person who responded to my last comment was just regurgitating the same nonsense they pounded into our heads in Catholic Sunday school. It didn’t make sense to me then and it doesn’t make sense to me now.

In fact, given the history of the world, God seems to represent just the opposite: a reason to hate.

God and Hate

Try — if you can — to look objectively at the role of religion in current and past conflicts.

Nowadays, the big problem is terrorism by radicalized Muslims who believe that the world should be run according to strict adherence to Sharia Law. This set of laws is painfully outdated and ill-suited for today’s world. (Yes, that’s my opinion. Read the law objectively before you tell me you don’t agree.) Worse than that is the simple fact that since it is based on the Qur’an and Hadith — which have no bearing on non-Muslims — there’s no chance that it could ever be adopted by the entire world.

Yet there’s rampant hate, murder, and terrorist acts by these radicalized Muslims who claim that they are acting on the will of Allah — their name for God.

(Or is it a different God? I’ve never been able to figure that out.)

But it’s not just Muslims committing atrocities in the name of God. You don’t have to look back very far to see radicalized Christians bombing abortion clinics and killing doctors because of their beliefs. Heck, Wikipedia has a whole page dedicated to information about anti-abortion violence. Is this any different from Muslim terrorism?

And what about the Westboro Baptist Church‘s unsavory practice of picketing funerals — including the school children murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary School and those killed at the Boston Marathon bombing — to somehow protest gay rights. (Yeah, I don’t get the connection, either.)

You want some more information about Christians behaving badly? Check out Wikipedia’s Christian Terrorism page. (I didn’t even know there was such a thing until I started researching for this blog post.)

Hateful acts perpetrated in the name of God isn’t a recent thing, either. Look back in history and you’ll find the Salem Witch Trials, the Spanish Inquisition, and the Crusades. These are just three examples off the top of my head. I could spend all day searching for, reading about, and linking to other examples.

By why bother? I think I’ve made my point.

Non-Believers as Targets for Hate

I guess what bothers me most is how many people simply hate non-believers. I’m not sure why that is. If God is love, then surely that love should help believers tolerate the different viewpoints of others. After all, what is love?

Wikipedia defines love as:

Love is a variety of different feelings, states, and attitudes that ranges from interpersonal affection (“I love my mother”) to pleasure (“I loved that meal”). It can refer to an emotion of a strong attraction and personal attachment. It can also be a virtue representing human kindness, compassion, and affection—”the unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another”. It may also describe compassionate and affectionate actions towards other humans, one’s self or animals.

Yep, I added the emphasis.

If this is love and God is love then why are so many who claim to believe in God so full of hate?

Why can I, as a non-believer, have tolerance for religious belief systems when believers can’t have tolerance for mine?

Back to the Study Results

The article I should have linked to, the one without the offensive “Bible banger” phrase, is the one in the LA Times. If you haven’t read it, go do it now. It’s short and I promise it won’t offend you, no matter what you believe (or don’t believe).

It presents some conclusions that I find both confirming and reassuring. Because I know that most of you won’t bother to read it, I’ve shared a bit of it here:

For secular people, morality is predicated on one simple principle: empathetic reciprocity, widely known as the Golden Rule. Treating other people as you would like to be treated. It is an ancient, universal ethical imperative. And it requires no supernatural beliefs. As one atheist mom who wanted to be identified only as Debbie told me: “The way we teach them what is right and what is wrong is by trying to instill a sense of empathy … how other people feel. You know, just trying to give them that sense of what it’s like to be on the other end of their actions. And I don’t see any need for God in that. …

“If your morality is all tied in with God,” she continued, “what if you at some point start to question the existence of God? Does that mean your moral sense suddenly crumbles? The way we are teaching our children … no matter what they choose to believe later in life, even if they become religious or whatever, they are still going to have that system.”

The results of such secular child-rearing are encouraging. Studies have found that secular teenagers are far less likely to care what the “cool kids” think, or express a need to fit in with them, than their religious peers. When these teens mature into “godless” adults, they exhibit less racism than their religious counterparts, according to a 2010 Duke University study. Many psychological studies show that secular grownups tend to be less vengeful, less nationalistic, less militaristic, less authoritarian and more tolerant, on average, than religious adults.

Aren’t those all good qualities we want in our children and adults?

And look, Ma, no God!

Comments

Go to it. I know you have something to say.

I suspect this post will make the rounds of the religious websites, which will use it to show how evil atheists are. Whatever. It’s the same old, same old to me. I’ll just let those comments stand as they come in. I’m sure a good percentage of them will reinforce the truth of what I’ve written here.

I could remind commenters to read the entire post before commenting but most people can’t be bothered. The kinds of commenters who have nasty, hateful things to say don’t have time to actually read what they’re commenting on. They have lots of other sites to visit to spread their hate. It’s more efficient for them to zero in on a post title or sentence or phrase and comment on that.

But I also welcome comments by others who agree with what I’ve said — especially from those who can help me understand why this problem exists and what we can do about it — without pretending to believe something we don’t.

On Last Vacations

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A blog post triggers memories.

On this date in 2011, I wrote the last of three blog posts about what would be my last vacation with my wasband. There was supposed to be six in the series — one post for each day of the trip — but I must have gotten busy or distracted or simply lost interest and never blogged about the other three days. They’re lost in time like so many things I experienced in life and now barely remember.

(That’s why I blog about my life. So I remember things. This blog has 11 years of memories stored in it. So far.)

The vacation was in September 2011, a trip around Washington’s Olympic Peninsula. I’d finished up my last cherry drying contract before my wasband arrived. I was living in my RV, as usual, which was parked across the street from the last orchard on my contract, a beautiful and quiet place overlooking Squilchuck Canyon. The plan was to take a nice, leisurely drive west and hop a ferry to the Peninsula, then circumnavigate it. I think my wasband took a whole week off from work to do it.

This wasn’t my wasband’s first trip to Washington that summer. He came twice.

As usual, he came for my birthday — which I really wish he didn’t do. Back in those days, my summers were usually spent at my computer, revising one book or another. That year, I’d been working on my Mac OS X 10.7 book, which had a very tight deadline. For the previous editions, I’d worked closely with my editors to get the book in Apple stores on the date the OS was released. That quick publication, which required intense, often 10- or 12-hour days at my desk, was partially responsible for the book’s good sales figures. It didn’t matter if my birthday or a visit from a friend or loved one happened when the deadline was looming: I had to work until I was finished.

My wasband didn’t seem to understand this and always scheduled a visit for my birthday. It caused a lot of stress. He seemed to think that my birthday was a special day that required his attendance. I considered it just another day in my life, one that often required me to work. That’s part of the life of a freelancer: you work when there’s work and you play when there isn’t work.

In the summer of 2011, I managed to finish the book before he went home and we had some time together. But still, I clearly recall being in Leavenworth with him, just walking around the shops, when a panicky call came from my editor. I can’t remember the details, but it required me to get back to my trailer, which was an hour’s drive away, and email or ftp him a file for the printer. It couldn’t wait — the book was going to press and that file was absolutely needed. So we hurried to the truck and rushed back, thus pretty much ruining what should have been a stress-free day.

Picnic Spot
Our picnic spot along the bank of a river on Day 3 of that last vacation.

My wasband returned in September for our Olympic Peninsula trip. You can read about the first three days starting here. It was a great trip, possibly one of my Top 10. It was like the old days, when we did long road trips together: Seattle to San Francisco, the Grand Circle, Death Valley and Las Vegas, Skyline Drive and the Blue Ridge Parkway by motorcycle. We explored back roads, did the tourist thing, hiked, picnicked with cheese and crackers at roadside stops, photographed the scenery, and ate all kinds of foods. We stayed in great places and crappy places. Not everything was perfect, but what trip is?

Sunset over Victoria
On the second day, we took a ferry to Victoria, B.C.

When the trip was over, he headed home to Arizona without me. He had to get back to work, back to a job he hated, working for a micromanaging boss who’d fire him less than eight months later — even after I took him and his wife on a dinner trip by helicopter in an attempt to help my wasband score points.

Based on blog posts, it looks as if I headed back to Arizona with my helicopter in early October. Not sure why I stayed so long, but there must have been a good reason. I suspect I drove the RV back before that, but I don’t have any blog posts with details and my calendar doesn’t go back that far.

Yes, I made two trips to and from Washington each year — once to move my RV and again to move my helicopter. My wasband made the RV trip with me once in six years, taking a vacation through several national parks on the way home. I think he made the helicopter trip with me twice. It was a lot of traveling. The RV move was particularly stressful and lonely, especially if the weather turned bad along the way.

When I got back to Arizona, I started noticing a change in my wasband. He was cold and distant and never seemed happy. I assumed it was because of his job. His roommate had moved out of the Phoenix condo and I moved in. We fixed the place up nicely, with new furniture and my office set up in the guest room. Now we could spend more time together without his roommate criticizing half the things I did or said. But things just weren’t quite right.

It wasn’t until much later that I’d discover he’d been emailing an old friend back in New York that autumn about how I was “driving him crazy.” He never did tell me. I never knew that I was the cause of his unhappiness — even after visiting a marriage counsellor (at his request). I did know that he was making me miserable.

Later, at his mother’s 90th birthday party in September 2012, a few months after he’d ended our marriage with a phone call on my birthday — no visit that year! — as he was introducing the desperate old woman he’d replaced me with to his family and friends, he told a mutual friend that he was divorcing me because I hadn’t told him I loved him when he came to visit me on my birthday in 2011.

Draw your own conclusions. I did.

Anyway, the blog post I published on this date back in 2011 represents one of the last few times I was happy with my wasband. When the man I’d fallen in love with 28 years before returned to do something we loved to do together: explore new places and see new things.

I miss that guy.